Harry Potter and the Realization He's Made a Huge Mistake
by Anonymous4718
Summary: I got my idea for this from a segment on the Colbert Report. Now that it's ending, I thought that I would post this. It is also on Archive of Our Own at under the same username, along with all of my other works. I may be posting them onto this website in the future, but as for now, I'm just going to keep them there. Warning: All Ron lovers out there will NOT like this fic.
1. Chapter 1

Harry walked briskly to the large brick fireplace in his living room. As he stepped into the hearth, Ginny attempted to press a kiss to Harrys cheek, but he straightened quickly, not even letting her brush her lips against his skin.

"Honey please, I said I'm sorry…can we just talk about this more, take the day off."

Harry ducked to glare at her and growled, eyes blazing with anger, "You just told me last night that you've been fucking Dean Thomas for the past year. Sorry is most certainly not going to cut it."

He grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the clay pot that lay beside him and straightened up, throwing the powder at his feet and shouting, "Ministry of Magic!", disappearing into the roaring green flames.

When he arrived at the Ministry moments after, he stumbled out of the towering marble fireplace quickly, crashing into Hermione Granger.

"Oh hello, Harry," she said, brushing her curly hair out of her face, and nodding in thanks as Harry handed her the heavy bookbag that she had dropped. Her hair was a good tell of how stressed she was, and today it was even messier than usual, meaning that was stressed.

"Hey, how's it going, Hermione?"

"Not great, Ron's been drinking again…not a good time for us right now. How's it going for you, with Ginny? Come on, cheer me up, it's never going to go sour for you guys."

Just as Harry opened his mouth to speak, his boss came striding towards him, parchment in hand. Harry said to Hermione, "Can't talk now, meet up at the Leaky Cauldron when we get out?" Hermione nodded, and stepped into the lift. The golden bars closing with a clank behind her before she was whisked away.

Harry turned to Kingsley Shacklebolt, the current minister of magic, who didn't notice the disgruntled expression on Harry's face. "Hey, Potter. Need you to give these assignments to some of the new chaps in your department. The damned memo system is down right now."

Harry nodded, and stepped into the lift, before being transported quickly to the Auror department. When he reached his floor, and stepped out of the lift, he looked at the grand room, which was filled with other aurors rushing about. This sight would've filled him with joy five years ago, but work had become dull and tedious ever since becoming the head of the Auror office. Now, instead of going out and catching criminals, he was forced to work from behind a desk, directing others who had his dream job.

The hours dragged along, and he desperately wished for a time turner so that he wouldn't have to endure the boredom. He was happy with Ginny before, but now even that was gone, making the time he spent with Hermione the only light in his dark days.

When the hand turned to six, and he was finally free to go, he elected to take the fireplace in his office to the Leaky Cauldron. He had only really chosen to use the public one so that he could speak to Hermione before work.

When he stepped out of the fireplace, he saw that Hermione had already arrived. She was sitting at the bar with two butterbeers, looking anxiously at the fireplace.

He smiled at her, and she stood up, locking him in a tight embrace.

When the hug was broken, Harry said, "Hey, Hermione. Sorry about not being able to talk earlier, you know how Shacklebolt is."

"It's fine, I completely understand. You didn't get to answer me earlier, how's it going with Ginny?"

Harry's expression fell. It seemed that his life with Ginny was the only thing letting Hermione know that relationships could work out. Letting her know about Ginny's affair could crush her.

She saw his face turn into a frown and asked, "Oh Merlin, Harry, what's wrong?"

He tried to clear the dark shadow that had been cast upon his face but failed, and he said, "I just found out that Ginny's been…seeing someone else. For a while now."

Hermione looked at him aghast for a few moments until she locked him in an embrace once more.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Harry…"

"t's all right, really, I don't know how I didn't see it earlier… s'pose it's a bit of my fault, really…"

Hermione immediately broke out of the embrace, and, pointing a finger at Harry's face, said, "No. Don't you dare say that, Harry James Potter. There is absolutely no way that this is your fault."

Harry took a swig of butterbeer, swirling it in his cheeks, and admiring the rich and creamy taste before swallowing.

"Yeah…Ginny's just a bitch, isn't she?"

Hermione looked shocked at those words, unaware of how bad things had become between Harry and Ginny is such a short period of time.

"Should've known it was too good to be true…oh, come on Hermione, how did I not know? She would disappear for hours on end, say she was out with the girls…I knew, I was just trying to spare myself from that…Oh, Merlin, Hermione, what am I going to do?" The realization crashed into him like a giant wave, sweeping him off of his feet.

"I don't know Harry, I'm so sorry…"

Harry drank the butterbeer once more, loving how it managed to dull his emotions, and add a hazy glow to everything.

_*Hic*_ "I see why Ron likes this now…"

Hermione stiffened at the mention of Ron's name and sipped at her butterbeer as well, tracing the frosted glass handle of the mug with her fingers once she had placed it back onto the table.

"Ron's more of a Firewhisky guy," she said, laughing bitterly. "Apparently he loves it more than his children,"

Harry's head snapped up. "No, he didn't…"

Hermione looked down, still tracing the handle of the mug.

"The children are covered in bruises, they won't say where they came from, but I'm pretty sure…"

Hermione then broke down into tears, and clung onto Harry, sobbing.

"Oh, what are we going to do, Harry?"

Harry patted her back, thinking the exact same.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry and Hermione parted from the pub, agreeing to meet tomorrow at the same time. Harry dreaded his arrival back home, not wanting to confront Ginny about her affair at all. What he needed was some breathing space.

When he arrived home, he found a dinner made by Ginny on the table, along with candles, and a rose in a crystal vase in the centre. She shot up out of her seat when he arrived in the fireplace, and stuttered, "I—I made dinner. I thought we could talk."

Harry nodded gruffly, and sat down at the table, not saying a word.

"Oh Merlin, what can I say, Harry…I'm sorry, oh, so, so sorry…I don't know how it got out of hand like this…" Ginny, realizing that Harry was not listening, suddenly had fire flash in her eyes, and barked, "Harry, I'm trying to apologize, don't just eat and look at me!"

It was quite clear she had her mothers temper.

Harry looked up, and said, "It's cold." He then resumed eating the meal, chewing slowly.

Ginny looked shocked. "Yes, of course it's cold. It's bloody ten o'clock, what'd you expect? Your work ends at six. Talk to me, dammit, Harry James Potter. And not about the damned dinner!" Ginny slammed her fist down, quickly glancing up at the ceiling to make sure the children were still sleeping peacefully above.

Harry remained dangerously quiet.

He smiled innocently at first, but then began to spit words that had surprising venom behind them, showing he truly belonged to the house of the snake.

"You're sorry, huh? Well, you cheated on me. Not just once, but for a whole fucking year. You don't get to be sorry. I get to decide whether or not to forgive you. Whether or not a stupid piece of flesh like you is worth forgiving. You don't know how it 'got out of hand'? For a whole year? Fuck you, you cunt. I'm done with you."

Harry slammed down the silverware, and threw the chair behind him with such a force that it crashed into the wall, one of the legs breaking off and splintering, before marching up the stairs. To his utter disgust, he felt pleased by the sounds of Ginny breaking into tears behind him.

He fell asleep alone.

When Hermione arrived home, she was nauseated by the state of disarray the living room was in.

There were bottles of firewhisky scattered about, a few dripping the pungent, sparkling liquid onto the floor, which hissed as it ate into the wooden floorboards.

She found Ron passed out in the middle of a heap of bottles, arm falling off the couch, and snoring loudly. Hermione smiled, as that image reminded her of the Ron she knew. The silly man she could laugh with, and loved dearly. She began to pick up a few of the bottles, and threw them into the trash, until Ron awoke from his slumber, grabbing her wrist.

He wrenched the bottle out of her hand and took a few swigs of the remaining scarlet liquid.

Hermione crossed her arms, and glared at him as he yawned, and emptied the bottle. "Well hello, Ron. Now that you're awake, maybe you'd like to clean up the rest of these?"

Ron grinned and said, "Why should I do that when I already got my own stupid bitch to do that for me?"

Hermione continued to glare at him. She had heard this all before.

"Got my own lil' house elf here…see, your freeing the house-elves idea was great! Why do we need house elves when we've got women?"

Ron grinned, throwing the bottle at Hermione, which would've hit her face if it wasn't for the quick freezing charm she cast. Ron looked disappointed that it hadn't hit her, making Hermione scowl. The last time she had argued with Ron while he was in this state, she had received bruises all along her arms from him pinning her into the wall while he yelled at her. It was best not to argue now, while he was in a violent state. She kneeled and picked the bottle off of the floor, placing it into the trash.

Ron grinned.

"Good, my little slave," he said, grabbing another bottle of Ogden's finest from beneath his sofa.

Hermione crept through the hallway to go and check on Rose and Hugo. Hugo was sleeping, although not very peacefully, as he was sprawled across the bed, snoring loudly. After Hermione had closed the door to Hugo's room, she cracked the door to Rose's bedroom open. Rose was hiding under her blankets reading a book, based upon the telltale light of Lumos shining out from beneath the blankets. Hermione smiled at her daughters shared appreciation of reading.

"I can see the light, sweetheart," she said, waving her wand, making the blankets sweep back, and revealing the somewhat sheepish looking perpetrator.

Rose raised her arms in mock surrender. "All right, you got me," she said, grinning from ear to ear. Hermione frowned, seeing the dark purple and black finger marks along her daughters arms."

"Rose. I need you to tell me this very seriously. How did you get those marks?" Rose bit her lip, but said, "I was just practicing a spell…just a bit of a mistake, that's all."

Hermione looked discontented, but didn't question her daughter any further. She waved her wand again, taking the leather-bound book out of her daughters hands, and placing it on the bookshelf, but not before taking a bookmark out of her daughters desk, and marking the spot. She waved her wand again, and placed the blanket on her daughter, tucking her in.

As she closed the door behind her, she said to Rose, "I love you," and smiled as she heard her daughter respond in kind.

Hermione slept alone that night, crying herself to sleep.

When Harry awoke the next morning, he discovered that Ginny had joined him in bed late last night. She had wrapped her arm around him and clung to him like she used to, resting her head upon his chest. For a moment, Harry felt a pang of regret, seeing her look calm and peaceful curled up against him. He immediately grimaced, and threw her arm off him, waking her up.

When she saw he had risen, she attempted to speak, but was cut off by Harry slamming the door to the bedroom shut as he left the room.

When she opened the door and left the room, Harry hurried back past her, locking the door, and effectively letting her know that she wasn't wanted. When he emerged from the room fully dressed, she attempted to speak to him once more, but he simply took the cup of coffee he had made himself earlier, and disappeared into the fireplace, without saying a word.

When Harry arrived at work, he found that most of the hustle and bustle was concentrated near the fountain, where he heard the sneering voice of Draco Malfoy.

Oh, Merlin, what's Malfoy saying he's done now…he's practically the new Gilderoy Lockhart.

Harry's face briefly broke into a grin, imagining Draco babbling unintelligently like the other wizard had. If only. He wiped the smile off his face when he saw Malfoy approaching him.

"So, Potter, you heard? I'm engaged again!"

Harry blinked, and managed to choke out, "Really? That's brilliant news! To who?"

The two men had managed to overcome some past grudges, however, there still was a level of distrust to their relationship. Draco squinted at Harry to try and reveal whether or not he had been sarcastic.

"Oh, she's right here with me. Trace!"

Draco waved for a thin brunette with brilliant blue eyes to join him. Unlike most Slytherins Harry had met, Harry had no particular dispute with this girl, although he had recognized her from the sorting during his first year.

Unlike Draco, who looked pompous, she looked rather shy and intelligent. However, her voice was stoic.

"Tracey Davis, pleased to meet you. Draco's mentioned you before. Multiple times, in fact. One could say he's almost jealous." She raised an eyebrow and looked at Draco, making him shrink.

Harry laughed genuinely; she was the first person he had ever met who could manage to keep Draco's massive ego in control.

"Harry Potter," he said, taking her hand in a surprisingly strong handshake. "Pleased to meet you as well. If you will excuse me, I have to be going now, but it was a pleasure to meet you."

She nodded, and turned to the reporters, who were volleying questions at the couple.

Harry spent the rest of the day hearing about Draco Malfoys engagement to Tracey Davis, and Harry wondered if he could make a fresh start like that, as Draco had had a fresh start from his wife, Astoria with Tracey.

Just like Ginny, Astoria had been brave and charismatic, with a quick wit, but had cheated on Draco with his friend, Blaise Zabini. Harry wanted someone just like Tracey now. Someone who was intelligent, and wasn't afraid to put him in his place. Harry cleared the thought from his mind. Such a thing could only happen in fairytales.

When Hermione awoke, she shielded her eyes from the bright light filtering through the gap between the curtains. Sitting up, and looking around the room, she saw that she was still alone. She brushed her fingers against the cold pillow next to her, and then stood up, looking around once more at the empty bedroom. Once she had gotten dressed and left the room, she saw that Ron hadn't moved from the couch last night, and saw two more bottles of Ogden's finest sitting next to him. Just then, a whoosh of green flames appeared in the fireplace. It was her house sitter, Parvati Patil, with her hair wrapped in tight bun. Over the years, her hair had become streaked with silver strands, which brought out the light in her eyes. Even with her grey hairs, Parvati looked younger and more vibrant than Hermione. Right now, Hermione knew she looked defeated.

Parvati seemed to sense this as she walked in, looking down in disdain at Ron Weasley, who she knew would be asleep for most of the day.

"Hello, Hermione," she said, smiling sympathetically.

"Well…I'll be off to work now," Hermione choked out, rushing to the fireplace before Parvati could say another word.

When Hermione arrived at the Ministry of Magic, she looked at the clock standing in the middle and swore.

_A few minutes late…dammit…_

She began to jog to the elevators, looking to her left, near the fountain to see the remains of a crowd dispersing. She stepped into the elevator just before the wrought iron bars of her prison slammed shut.

Throughout her day, Hermione recalled the times when work used to please her. She struggled towards a cause she believed in; freeing the elves, and now that her goal was achieved, she was stuck doing monotonous drudgery that she had no passion for. There were only so many times she could fill out forms to catch escaped nifflers.

She sighed, leaning back in her chair.

_What am I going to do about Ron?_

Hermione dug into her bag, which had an undetectable extension charm cast upon it, to fish out a bottle of pills.

Quickly skimming the label, which read 'St Mungos Antidepressants' on it, Hermione quickly popped off the cap and swallowed a pill, placing the bottle back into her bag. Hermione quickly looked around nervously, in case anyone had seen.

That was a secret she wanted no one to know.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione arrived at the pub, collapsing into Harry's arms, and holding him in a tight embrace. Her day was filled with the same forms to fill, and it was quite monotonous, yet she was ridiculously exhausted, and she needed someone to comfort her.

"Harry…" she said, her voice breaking slightly. "How are we going to keep doing this?"

"I don't want to have to," Harry murmured. "I don't want to have to live like this. But I'm stuck here, frozen. I just can't hurt James, Albus, and Luna. They know Ginny and I are fighting, but they think it's only a temporary thing. But, honestly, at this point I don't know whether or not it is. Oh Hermione…I don't know what to do."

Hermione nodded, sorrow filling her soul. She downed some butterbeer, now understanding why Ron drank firewhisky all the time. She gulped it down ravenously, slowly becoming sedated by the pleasant buzz the amber liquid brought. She stopped only when Harry put his hand on hers, lowering it so that she had to set the mug back onto the counter.

_I can't be Ron… Rose and Hugo need me. I'm better than this. _

Hermione looked at Harry, who had begun to drink his butterbeer as well, and grinned sheepishly.

"Well now you're just being a hypocrite, why can you drink and I can't?" she pouted. Harry looked down at his mug, and smiled.

"I suppose that is a bit rude of me, isn't it?" he said, setting the mug down with a clunk.

"Have things gotten better between you and Ron?" Harry asked, folding his hands together, and looking at Hermione. These conversations may have been uncomfortable and painful, but they were a way for the both of them to vent, and they needed that desperately.

"I-I saw more bruises on Roses arms today," Hermione stuttered, looking down at her fingernails. She had been biting them out of anxiety, and now they were reduced to tiny stubs. "I didn't get the chance to see if Hugo had more as well, it's just…too painful to imagine whether Ron has really been doing what I think he's doing. There's no way."

Hermione had a strong suspicion in the back of her mind, but the proud Gryffindor within her refused to believe that her own husband could harm her children.

Harry looked at her, concerned. "Tell Molly about it." He said. "You're going over to her house soon, before school starts again, aren't you? Tell her, she'll know what to do."

Hermione nodded, silently thankful that she had such a good friend. He had been there for her when Ron had begun to drink so many years ago, acting as her emotional support. If only Ron could be that way. Instead she had to support him, and he only weighed her down.

The two continued chatting for hours after that, steering clear from the painful topics that were their marriages. They had to confront the issue, but once they had been together for a few minutes, the matter would dissipate in cheerful chatter.

When she left the Leaky Cauldron that day, she was sure of one thing. She was going to tell Molly about Ron. No matter what the consequences were, she had to let her know. Hermione was sure he would try and hide his alcoholism from his mother, as Molly Weasley was the one person he was still deathly afraid of.

When Harry arrived home, he saw Ginny again at the table, with dinner already set out on the table, in the same arrangement as the day before. Before she stood up to greet him, Harry began to speak.

"No. Ginny, please, just no more of this. Your stupid dinners are not going to sway my decision."

Ginny looked at him in shock saying, "Please, Harry, just sit down. I'm sure we can talk about this. I'll do anything. Just tell me, and I'll do it. Please, just forgive me."

She gestured to the chair sitting across from her, and Harry felt a pang of sadness for hurting the woman he loved dearly. However, he reminded himself. Her actions were unforgivable. He may be able to move past them, but never forgive her.

He set up the steely cold demeanor he had created after working for years at the Ministry.

"Ginny, if you continue in this manner, I'll just assume that you're trying to guilt me into staying with you. I'm simply judging whether the children are capable of handling the information that their mother is an outright whore and sleeps around with other men behind her husbands back for an entire year. That, and if I believe that I am capable of loving you again after this. Just act normally."

Ginny sat back down, tears welling up behind her eyes, and nodding.

"So I'll just try and act normally. Before any of this ever happened."

"Yes."

"Well, if you don't recall, this was what it was like before 'any of this' happened. Then you became distant. You never talked to me, Harry. I'm trying to prevent that from happening again. So please, if you don't want this, just talk to me."

Harry nodded, and sat down.

"So…how was work?" Ginny asked.

Harry snorted, and rolled his eyes, before clearing his throat and continuing. His derisive behavior would not aid their attempts at keeping their relationship. "Boring, as usual. I heard Draco Malfoy is getting remarried, though."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "That's bound to end well. He fought with Astoria all the time and everyone thought they were perfect together."

She froze. That seemed to be their exact situation right now. Trying to steer clear from that subject, she opened her mouth to speak, but Lily had come down the stairs for a glass of milk.

"Hey mum, dad…" she said sleepily, rubbing her chocolate brown eyes.

"Hey, sweetheart," Harry said, smiling. "You better go to sleep early, this is your first year at Hogwarts."

"Think you've said that 'bout fifty times this past week," Lily said, yawning, and filling the glass with some milk. There was an awkward silence for a few minutes until Lily set the empty glass into the sink, and turned back to whence she came.

Harry smiled gently, watching her as she ascended the stairs.

Once he heard the door click shut, Harry turned to Ginny, and asked, "Do you know anything about Ron lately?"

Ginny looked at him. "No, we've been out of contact for a while. The last time we spoke was about a year ago, about when he lost his job, I think. He doesn't really talk much anymore, why, what's wrong?"

"Well, while I was talking to Hermione today," Harry took a deep breath, and said, "Hermione thinks Ron might be physically abusing Rose."

Ginny gasped, clasping her hand to her mouth. "What? No, that can't be. I know I haven't spoken to him in a while, but he couldn'tve done that. Ron loves Rose."

"Right…just with what Hermione's saying, she's saying he's turned into a total drunkard. Just saying, maybe we should check up on 'em more often."

Ginny nodded, looking slightly pleased that Harry was willing to converse with her.

"Right, well, I'm going to bed now…"

Harry ascended the stairs to their bedroom, and before he fell asleep, he heard Ginny open the door and crawl into bed next to him.

Perhaps things could be just as they were before?


	4. Chapter 4

"Hermione! Ron!" Molly Weasley came running towards the four of them as fast as her stout body could carry her.

"Oh, Rose and Hugo, look at how much you've grown!" Mrs. Weasley smothered the two children in her hug.

Hermione, for the first time in ages with Ron, smiled genuinely. Molly Weasley had that effect upon people. It had been years since Arthur Weasley had passed away from an accident at the Ministry, but Molly stayed strong through the turmoil.

"Oh, Hermione, pretty as always, come here, luvvy, oh, Ron! Why haven't you sent me an owl?" Molly Weasley broke away from her hug with the two children, and hustled towards Ron and Hermione, smothering them in an embrace, much to Ron's chagrin.

"I've been busy mum," Ron grumbled, almost sounding like his old self.

"Busy my arse! You've been outta a job for almost a year now. Come on, in, in, everyone, don't want you cooking in this weather, it's bloody baking me!"

The five of them staggered inside, to be met with the sight of the burrow, looking the same, as always. No matter what happened, the burrow was a constant.

"Alright, kids, go up to your rooms and unpack. And no chasing each other about!" Molly Weasley called up the stairs, hearing the two children race up the stairs at breakneck speed.

"Oh, Molly, I'm so sorry we couldn't visit earlier," Hermione said, embracing Molly Weasley once more.

"Ron, out of the cabinet. Come here and give your mother a hug."

Ron grimaced, and closed the cabinet, which Hermione knew used to hold alcohol. Ron, instead of hugging his mother, sat down on the couch.

"Oh, Ron, get up and hug your mother," Hermione snapped.

Ron simply rolled his eyes, and got up off of the couch, gingerly hugging his mother.

"There, there, Ronnie…"

Hermione smiled at them, and began to walk up the stairs to check on the children.

The walls of the staircase were covered in photographs, all of which were moving. Hermione frowned, realizing that most of the people in these photographs had passed away. Hermione brushed her fingers against the frame of a photograph of Charlie Weasley, grinning, and holding a small dragon who was spitting sparks. Hermione then frowned, remembering how Ron had sobbed and had to brace himself against the fireplace at the news of his death, when Charlie had finally met a dragon he could not tame and had been scorched, and died in the hospital before his family had received news of his injuries.

The next photograph contained two people within the frame, Fred and George Weasley. They were standing in front of their joke shop, which was a sickly bright purple. Fred had been killed at the Final battle at Hogwarts, which had sent George into a spiral of depression, making him kill himself only a year later. Ron had arrived at George's flat the day after, finding him lying in a puddle of his own vomit. It was found later that he had died from asphyxiation.

Hermione moved up another landing, and examined at a photograph of Bill Weasley, kissing Fleur Delacour on the lips at their wedding, and then beaming, and waving. He had met his untimely end by having forgotten to take his Wolfsbane potion and attacking Fleur, turning her into a werewolf. The Ministry had to kill the couple on that day, as they were slaughtering their neighbors. At their funeral, Bill was covered in scars, which the coroner had tried to cover up, but had failed. Ron had to clutch onto Hermione's shoulder as sob after having seen his brothers heavily scarred and mangled face.

She moved on to the next picture, of Percy Weasley, when he had finally been hired at the Ministry, wearing a black pinstripe suit, and trying his best to not look too excited about the prospect of working at the Ministry. After years of stress at his job, he had turned to self harm, and passed away. Hermione felt her eyes begin to water, as she remembered how she and Ron had come over to his flat to tell him that they were expecting, and only to find him in the bathroom, lying in a pool of his own blood. She had cried for days afterward, and Ron had hugged her, supporting her for that entire time. And now Hermione needed to be there for him.

She looked in on Rose and Hugo in what used to be Fred and George Weasley's room. It still had the same pungent odor from years of experimenting with making sweets, but the cauldrons that used to litter the room were gone, along with the candy wrappers.

"Hugo, Rose, did you unpack?"

"We already have mum, can we go outside now?"

"Yes, don't stray far!" Hermione called out, as Hugo and Rose shot past her.

Hermione continued to climb the stairs until she reached Ron's room. Instead of being covered in the bright orange banners of the Chudley Cannons, the walls were empty. The two twin beds that had once occupied his bedroom had vanished, and had been replaced by one large bed, covered in a large patchwork quilt. Hermione summoned her and Rons' trunk, placing it upon the bed and opening it. She had packed the clothing earlier, in neat stacks, but it was quite clear that someone had rummaged through the trunk. Hermione placed the clothing into the drawers of the plain oak dresser in the corner of the room, to find that Ron had brought four bottles of firewhisky along in the trunk. Hermione cast a spell, making them vanish with a pop.

This was going to be Rons intervention.

Harry arrived home to find a note on the dining table from Ginny. It read, Out to do the shopping, should be home by around 8.

Harry looked at the heavy grandfather clock that sat next to the fireplace. It was half past five. He stood up and walked over to the fireplace, picking up a picture that was on the mantelpiece. In the frame, he was smiling, and looking at Ginny, who was holding their first child, James, who was bright red and bawling. He looked at himself in the photograph. He looked much younger back then, his face was free of wrinkles that now plagued him, and his eyes were bright, without dark purple shadows lingering beneath them.

Harry placed the frame back onto the mantelpiece, and examined the picture next to it. It was a photograph of all of the graduates of Hogwarts the year after the Final battle. Due to the high number of casualties during the war, there were only twenty or so people within the frame.

Within this photograph, he was beaming, and standing straight next to Hermione and Ron who seemed to be joking with Seamus and Neville. In Slytherin house, only four students had graduated, Draco Malfoy, Tracey Davis, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. Harry frowned, and placed the photo back onto its place on the mantelpiece. He remembered how Malfoy had recently become engaged to Tracey Davis.

Crouching down, he waved his wand at the glowing embers, and made a fireplace call to Malfoy Manor. A house elf greeted him.

"Hello, is Draco Malfoy there?"

"Yes, master is here, would you like to speak to him?"

"Er, if he's not busy, ask him if he could come over to the Potter residence to…to talk."

"Potter residence? At what time?"

"Er, maybe at around six?"

"Potter residence at six."

With a crackle, the face of the elf disappeared, and Harry walked to the sofa to await the arrival of Draco Malfoy.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione and Ron had been at the Burrow for a few days, enjoying the lazy summer breezes, and lovely shade. Although Ron had been understandably cross about the disappearance of his firewhisky, he had no proof that Hermione had rid him of it, and didn't want to attract the attention of his mother further.

Hugo and Rose had loved the past week, they spent most of the time playing quidditch in the field, using a garden gnome as the quaffle, which would occasionally bite their fingers, and go running off as fast as its stubby legs could carry it. Ron played with them as well, and Hermione watched them dart around in the sky like small canaries. It had almost seemed like everything was back to normal.

Except for at night. Ron had summoned a hammock, which he would sleep in, his snores filling the air, and permeating the otherwise awkward silence.

On the last day of their visit, after Molly Weasley had noticed the lack of communication between Ron and Hermione at the dinner table as the children argued about which Quidditch team was better; the Appleby Arrows, or the Wimbourne Wasps. She promptly pulled Hermione aside, knowing that Ron would simply try to evade her questions out of fear of her spectacular rages.

"Luvvy, how's it going with Ron?"

Molly ushered Hermione off to the sofa after Ron had glared at Hermione threateningly, his eyes seemingly glowing in a warning to stay silent.

"Oh, it's fine, nothing's going on, everything's lovely, as normal."

Molly Weasley folded her arms, and puffed out her chest, saying, "Hermione, I've known you long enough to know when you're lying. You're going to tell me exactly what's wrong."

"Oh, honestly, it's fine, just a little argument we're going through-" Hermione lost her composure, and choked out a sob.

_Dammit._

"Oh, deary, come here," Molly Weasley locked Hermione in an embrace, and Hermione gave in to her emotions, completely breaking into tears.

"How long has it been like this?" Molly said, holding Hermione's arms, and looking her dead in the eye.

Hermione wiped the tears out of her eyes, and said, "About a year or so,"

"What happened?"

"I don't know when it started or what caused it…he just began to drink, it wasn't that much at first, but soon it was so much, and he grew such a temper. And…and…this is just speculation, but…oh Merlin, I think he's beating the kids…I just don't know what to do anymore. Please, Molly, don't tell him that I told you, he'd be so upset."

Hermione's eyes shot down, but not quickly enough, as she saw Molly Weasley transform into a creature of fury.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

Hermione swallowed, and rushed in after Molly to grab the children and usher them out of the room, not wanting them to hear what was about to happen.

_Why do I have to break so easily? I was never like this before..._

Harry's head snapped towards the fireplace as he heard the familiar roar of the flames of the floo network. He immediately straightened, to greet Draco Malfoy.

"Potter," Draco Malfoy said, giving a curt nod, and sitting gracefully in the plush armchair sitting beside the couch, and raising his eyebrow so as to question why Harry had invited him.

"Malfoy," Harry said, responding in kind. He cleared his throat. What he was going to be asking him was personal, he needed to be at least somewhat polite.

"Er…thanks for coming, how's it going with Tracey?"

Draco looked about the room and sneered. There was no doubt that Malfoy Manor was much nicer than Harry's small flat. It wasn't as if Harry didn't have the money to purchase a larger home, it was just that he hated the feel of an empty manor, it felt lifeless, while smaller homes, such as the Burrow, seemed to be teeming with love and joy, just in the way a home should.

"It's going well, I believe our getting engaged might be a sign of that."

"Right. Er…when did you guys meet?"

Draco sighed melodramatically.

"Are you really here to learn about every facet of my new life with Tracey, or do you have some other motive? To answer your question, we met at Hogwarts, however we began to date about two years ago."

"Well, I guess you caught me, what I originally intended to ask was…well, I'm not sure you're comfortable answering this, are you?"

"Depends upon the question," Draco said snidely, glancing at Harry before looking around the room once more.

"Right. Er…when did you know that you should leave Astoria?"

Draco stiffened, and said, "Marriage problems, Potter?"

Harry stiffened, and responded "Yeah…are you going to answer the question?" He quickly glanced down at his toes, realizing that he was tapping his foot, as he always did when he was nervous. He stopped, and turned back to Draco.

"It wasn't immediate. She told me about her affair, and I was upset at first, but I tried to forgive her. We tried to 'start again' per se, going on dates and such, it was just that the second time around, I realized I couldn't love her anymore."

"Er, right, um, how'd you know?"

"Oddly sentimental today, aren't you Potter? Is there a reason for that?"

"I asked the question first." Harry said, not wanting to reveal any personal information to Draco.

"And I've answered several of your previous questions. It's your turn."

Harry grimaced.

"Ginny cheated on me," Harry blurted, immediately regretting his decision to do so.

"One-time incident or recurring transgressions…?"

"God, why do you have to talk like some sort of fancy ponce? She's been doing Dean Thomas for over a year."

Draco smirked slightly at Harry's comment about the manner in which he spoke and responded, "I wasn't attracted to the same things I was previously attracted to. I no longer found her wit to be particularly sharp, which was what had originally attracted me to her. It seems that even when Slytherin is the house of ambition and cunning, very few are actually the latter of the two. Are you considering staying with Ginevra?"

Harry nodded, eyes downcast. His foot had started tapping again.

"Well, I'd suggest doing as I did. Try to rekindle the flame, seeing if you still love her. If you do, and she is truly apologetic for her actions, stay with her. If not, it may be time for you to move on."

"And why should I listen to you?"

Draco smiled, pressing his lips together.

"You trusted me enough to ask for my advice in the first place. If you didn't want my advice on the matter, why did you invite me over?"

"Right. Er…sorry 'bout that."

The two sat in an awkward silence for a moment, before Malfoy straightened, and said, "I'd best be going. I wish you the best of luck with Ginevra."

Malfoy extended a hand, and Harry straightened up quickly, shaking it.

"Well, thanks for coming,"

For a second, Harry saw warmth flickering in Malfoys grey eyes as he said, "Good luck, Potter," and then vanished in the green flames.


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione told Hugo and Rose to play outside as she sat just outside the entrance to the Burrow, listening, and cringing, only imagining how Ron felt, having to face his mother while she was in this temperament.

"Ronald Weasley, men in this family do not turn into drunkards. I will not tolerate this! Imagine what your father would say!"

"I'm not a drunk, smell my breath, come on, mum, have I acted like someone who downs firewhisky?"

"So are you saying she's lying?"

"Yes!"

Hermione gasped as she heard Molly Weasley slap her son.

"Ow, mum, what the hell!"

"Hermione Granger has never lied to me, and she never will. I expect you to do the same! Pack your bags, you're leaving."

Ron slammed the door of the Burrow open, and Hermione jumped up.

"We're leaving. Now." He growled.

"Hugo, Rose? We're leaving now, say bye to Molly and go upstairs and pack back up!"

"But mom!"

"Just do as I say."

Ron glared at Hermione, and pointed at her face, making her back up in fear.

"When we get home-you and I-we're going to talk."

Ron stormed off once more, most likely to the fireplace to await their departure. It was very unlikely that he would help pack up the bags.

Hermione strode back into the Burrow, and like she had expected, Ron was sitting cross legged next to the fireplace. She ascended the stairs and looked into Rose and Hugo's room, smiling. It was quite obvious that they were trying to take as long as possible to pack up their belongings in order to avoid leaving the Burrow.

"First one to finish packing gets a chocolate frog." Hermione said in a singsong voice, which made both of the children move at a lightning speed.

Hermione continued to ascend the stairs until she reached the bedroom she shared with Ron. She quickly waved her wand, making the hammock disappear, and waved it once more so that all the drawers of the dresser opened, and all the clothing flew out, folding as they drifted over to the trunk, and stacking within the trunk nicely. With another flick of her wand, the trunk clicked shut, and locked. She then performed a wordless hovering charm to make the trunk hover and begin to descend the stairs ahead of her. Wingardium Leviosa. That spell always reminded her of when Ron had . Even to this day, those words of her former bully echoed in her head.

Should she have taken Ron's dislike towards her during the first year as a warning? She shook her head, Ron was simply going through a bad part of his life. It would pass.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Hermione was met with two arguing teenagers.

"Mum, I finished packing first, I should get the chocolate frog!"

"No I did, mum, he's lying!"

"You're the li-"

"If you don't stop bickering, neither of you are going to get anything. Go on home. And once you arrive there, go to your rooms."

The two teenagers both sighed loudly, and grabbed handfuls of floo powder, climbing into the hearth.

"Ronald and Hermione Weasley residence."

The teenagers vanished in the bright green flames, and Hermione and Ron then entered the fireplace, grabbing handfuls of floo powder as they stepped into the hearth, and shouting the same as they threw the powder at their feet.

As soon as Hermione had a view of home, Hugo and Rose had already rushed off to their bedrooms.

Hermione quickly cast a spell in the hallway so that the children would not be able to hear the argument that was about to ensue.

"You-you fucking bitch." Ron snarled from behind Hermione.

She spun around to look at Ron, shrinking under his glare. His face was bright red, and it would've been comical except for the fact that he was glowering in fury.

"Ron, calm down, think about what you're doing."

"Oh, don't tell me to calm down, you cunt. You had to go blathering. You gotta learn to stay out of my business."

"Ron, we're married. Your business **is** my business. Please, I'm just trying to help."

"When did I ask for your fucking help? Huh? When?"

"It's quite clear you need it."

Ron approached her quickly, and she backed up until she was up against the wall, looking Ron in the eye, shaking in fear.

_Since when have I been afraid of my husband?_

"I don't need your help, you hear me? I don't fucking need your help."

Ron suddenly swung his arm at Hermione, connecting his fist with her jaw and making her drop her wand with a clatter. She attempted to shield herself from his attack with her arms, but to no avail. He continued to send her a barrage of punches until she fell to the ground in a heap. Once she had fallen, he kicked her twice in the stomach before he seemed to come to his senses, and collapsed to his knees.

"Oh, Merlin, Hermione, what have I done? I'm so sorry, oh, I need your help, Hermione, I am so, so sorry…"

Ron picked Hermione up, and carried her to the sofa, where he laid her down, and quickly ran over to the kitchen, and wet a small cloth. He walked briskly back to her side, wiping the blood from her forehead.

Hermione appeared to have been knocked unconscious, but her breathing was shallow, and uneven.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry, please, wake up…"

Hugo then poked his head out of his bedroom, calling out, "Mum? Are you there? I forgot to bring back some of my shirts,"

Ron called out, panicked, "We'll get them later, stay in your room!"

"Why?"

"Just do as I say!" Ron barked, glaring in the direction of Hugo, glad that the wall prevented him from seeing Hermione.

Hermione began to stir, quietly whispering, "Ron?"

"Oh, Hermione, you're awake, I'm so sorry, you have no idea."

Hermione opened her eyes, and looked at Ron, whispering, "I forgive you."

She swallowed, wincing as one of Ron's punches seemed to have landed on her airway, making breathing painful.

_Ron's just having a hard time right now…I need to forgive him for things like this. But…people who love each other don't do this._

"Can you help me up?" Hermione said, coughing up scarlet droplets. "I'm going to go and rest in the bedroom."

"I'll carry you there. Oh, blimey, Hermione, I am so, unbelievably sorry."

Ron moved towards Hermione to pick her up, but before he could, she quickly said, "No, I'll walk, just help me up."

Ron extended a hand, and pulled Hermione up. Once she was standing, he helped her walk towards the bedroom, making sure she didn't fall. He gently cradled her onto the bed, and she hummed her thanks, smiling.

"Do you want me to get anything?"

"I want to cast a few healing spells. Could you get my wand?"

"Where is it?"

"Um…I dropped it when you…you know."

Ron nodded, and rushed over to pick up Hermione's wand. He looked at the wall next to it, and noticed that is was spattered with blood. He quickly pulled out his wand, and muttered 'Scourgify' making the red stain vanish.

He hurried back to Hermione, and handed her her wand. Hermione tried to sit up, wincing in pain as she did, and looked at herself in the mirror behind Ron.

The person she saw in the mirror did not resemble Hermione Granger in any way. She was completely disfigured; one of her eyes was overshadowed by an ugly purple stain and the other was hidden by some severe swelling. Her nose was bent slightly towards the left, and she had a deep laceration on her forehead. Luckily, none of her teeth were missing, but her mouth was bleeding profusely. Hermione then rolled up her shirt, looking at the large bruise on her midsection.

With a wave of her wand, she removed all the damage. Her face and torso returned slowly to their normal colour, the swelling shrunk back, and her nose quickly snapped back in place. Just as the cut on her forehead sealed, Hermione elicit a small gasp, collapsing back into bed, curling up into a small ball.

She no longer physically hurt, but there was no doubt that this had significantly hurt her relationship with Ron.

Just how much, was the question.


	7. Chapter 7

When Ginny arrived home, Harry sat up quickly, turning towards the door. She came staggering in with several bags of groceries, unable to cast levitating charms on them because of their multiple muggle neighbors.

Harry rushed over to help her, but before he could, she had already placed all of the bags upon the dining table.

"It's okay," she said, grinning. "Featherlight charm. Would've looked a bit odd if I wasn't struggling with all these bags."

"Er…right, can we talk?" Harry said, sitting back down, and taking a deep breath, looking over the back of the couch.

A shadow fell over Ginny's face as she said, "That doesn't sound good. Let me put these away first."

Once Ginny had put all of the shopping away, trying to make small talk to lighten the mood as she did so, she sat beside Harry on the sofa, and said, "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Harry took a deep breath, and took each of Ginny's hands in his. "Ginny…I forgive you. I-I don't want to continue like this, though. I want to start over. Dates, having fun like we used to. So that we can remember what we truly loved about each other."

Ginny had no reaction at first, but then Harry could see the telltale sparkle of tears beginning to well up in the corners of her eyes. She choked out a sob, and Harry let go of one of her hands to caress her face, murmuring, "What's wrong?"

"No-nothing. Just thank you, Harry. Thank you."

Ginny locked eyes with Harry, smiling bashfully. She wiped the tears out of her eyes, and moved in closer to Harry. To his bewilderment, she began to kiss him, gently at first, but deepening the kiss, swiping her tongue to ask for entrance, and then beginning to explore his mouth. She moved so that she was lying above Harry, recognizing the familiar taste that she hadn't had for so long. The taste of Harry. When she broke off the kiss, she gasped, "Bedroom,", and Harry nodded quickly, taking her hand and following her as she raced upstairs.

As soon as they entered their small bedroom, Ginny slammed Harry into the wall, giggling loudly. Harry barely had enough time to set up silencing charms before she stood on the tips of her toes to snog him. She wrapped her slender arms around his neck, as he brought her waist closer to his. Harry hummed appreciatively, and moved his arms so that he lifted her by her legs, making her yelp loudly, and then laugh giddily. He grinned, and pushed her up against the wall, making Ginny throw her head back, and involuntarily buck her hips. Harry pressed kisses to the nape of her neck while she gasped, head thrown back, and eyes squeezed shut.

Harry carried Ginny over to the four poster bed they shared, and tore off her blouse, revealing her lacy red brassiere, which pushed her chest up and out. He met his lips with hers once more, putting his hands on her waist while she slipped off her skirt, and began to unbutton his shirt. She broke off the kiss to pull his shirt off, Harry clumsily trying to remove the offensive article of clothing as well.

Once his well muscled arms were fully exposed, Harry pulled off Ginny's slightly wet red lacey panties, and licked the inside of her lower thigh, seeing her muscles twitch in anticipation. He kissed his way up, and just as he was about to reach her most sensitive of areas, he began to lather her other thigh with his tongue, making Ginny groan in annoyance, and throw her head back.

Once he reached the very top of her other thigh, he began to circle his tongue around her clit, making Ginny moan and grab his hair in her fist.

"Fuck, Harry…"

Harry slid two of his fingers inside Ginny, making her gasp, and use her other hand to clench onto the sheets. He curled his fingers expertly, so that they brushed against the spot her knew would make her scream, and Ginny bucked her hips, gasping loudly. He continued to move his fingers at a steady rhythm, while moving his tongue in circles, until her legs started to twitch uncontrollably, and then her torso, until she came with a scream, arching her back and spasming uncontrollably. She lost control of her body for the next minute, moaning unashamedly, as her back arched off of the mattress.

Harry sat next to her, stroking her hair, and smiling lovingly. Once Ginny had risen out of her post-orgasm haze, she gripped Harry's hand, and with the other, she unzipped his trousers, smiling playfully.

"You sure?" Harry asked.

His cock was asking for her to say yes, begging, in fact, but he needed to make absolutely sure that this was what Ginny wanted.

She nodded, still breathless an unable to speak, but if the mischievous twinkling of her chocolate brown eyes was anything to go by, she wanted this. Very much.

Harry grinned, and slipped out of his trousers, taking off his knickers so that he was completely naked, and his cock was achingly hard, with a bead of precum on the tip.

Ginny slid to the edge of the bed so that her legs were dangling off, and traced the floor with her toes. Harry slowly slid his cock into Ginny's wet folds, until even the base of his cock was within her. He then thrust, and continued to do so at a steady pace, making Ginny moan loudly in pleasure. He began to press kisses all over Ginny's body, but she was unable to do so, seeing as she was gripping onto the sheets as if they were the only things keeping her anchored to reality.

Harry felt his orgasm approaching, still a little bit in the distance, and judging how Ginny was moving, she was approaching hers as well. He could feel pleasure coursing along his spine with each thrust, and each movement brought him even closer to ecstasy. When Harry finally came, he cried out loudly, gripping the sheets and feeling them tear beneath his fingers, squeezing his eyes shut, seeing white spots in his vision. Ginny was moaning loudly beneath him, and spasming wildly, screaming his name.

When Harry's orgasm ended, he collapsed next to Ginny, exhaling loudly as she continued to twitch slightly.

When her shaking subsided, she moved next to him on the bed, grinning, and saying, "I've missed that."

Harry caressed her face, kissing her forehead, and saying, "I did too. You exhausted?"

"Merlin, yes."

Harry chuckled, and stood up, tucking Ginny under the blankets, making her hum in appreciation of the warmth the thick quilt provided. He walked over to the window, closing the drapes, making the room go pitch black. Harry crawled under the covers with Ginny, seeing a glimmer of hope.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry arrived at work the next day with a pep in his step that he had not had in ages; he saw the bright side to things instead of just the bad. He elected to take the fireplace to his office, not needing to rely on Hermione anymore. His problems were gone!

Harry smiled, thinking of his arrangements to have dinner with Ginny later that day. They were going to go to one of the restaurants that Madam Rosmerta had recently opened. Harry felt that if he were to start over with Ginny, he would have to go to a place that neither of them had ever been to before.

He sat down in his comfortable leather chair, spun once, and got to work.

"Are you sure you have to go to work today, Hermione? I'm so sorry about what happened, let me make it up to you."

"Honestly, I'm fine, Ronald, let me go!" Hermione said, trying to free herself from Ron's arms, and laughing as he gave her an exaggerated pout.

She stepped into the fireplace, throwing floo powder at her feet, waving at Ron just before she vanished in the bright green flames.

When she arrived at the Ministry, it was filled with the buzz of people speaking as usual, but she couldn't hear the voice of Harry, who she desperately wanted to talk to about Ron's latest turn. Shrugging, she stepped into the lift.

Maybe this might be the time he finally gets better? It's a realization for him.

Hermione, with this new thought, smiled and straightened, walking briskly to her desk to start the day.

"Wow, honey, this place looks fantastic!" Ginny exclaimed, looking around the modern establishment. The walls were a cold white, except for one, which was exposed brick, of a warm brown colour.

Harry pulled out the chair for Ginny, making her smile graciously as she sat, looking around the room more. It was a rather small building, but very clean, making it look much larger than it actually was. The walls were adorned with modern art, paintings in which the shapes swirled and danced, similar to muggle modern art, however, the interpretive shapes moved, like they were courting one another.

"Er, right, yeah, wanted to find a new place, and Neville recommended this one to me."

"Oh, really? That's interesting?"

Harry couldn't tell what it was, but there was something in her voice that let him know that she was lying. Actually, maybe it wasn't her voice. Maybe it was the way she held herself. When she was truly engaged in a topic, her entire face would become truly expressive, right now it was like she was wearing a mask.

Harry realized he had been staring at her for far longer than was appropriate, and immediately looked down at the menu in his hands.

"Did you hear what I just said?"

Harry glanced up quickly, to look at Ginny once more. She looked slightly exasperated, a single scarlet eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Er, no, sorry, could you say that again?"

"I said," Ginny spoke, sighing slightly in annoyance, "What sort of wine do you want to get?"

"Er, right, wine, um…"

Harry never understood wine. Honestly, to him, it all tasted the same, sour and bitter, and it made him cringe just thinking about it. His friends said that it was an acquired taste. He said that society forced them to drink it, and they eventually got to like it, so it was more like Stockholm Syndrome.

He shook his head. Right, what sort.

"I don't know. You can't choose."

Ginny looked at him quizzically, and then said, "Is everything all right, Harry?"

"Yeah, yeah, it is, just distracted, I guess."

Ginny continued to look at him in a quizzical manner, asking "Distracted by what?"

"No, it's nothing, honestly, just-"

The waiter arrived at the table, asking, "Have you selected your drinks for the evening?"

She saw Harry, and a glimmer of recognition flickered through her eyes, but she said nothing, Harry glad she did so.

"Hmm…we'll have the 2009 Falesco Merlot, please."

"All right, sounds lovely, are you ready to order yet?"

Ginny glanced at Harry, who was very clearly still reading the menu, and turned to the waiter, smiling, "I think we'll need a few more minutes."

"Sounds great. I'll get that Merlot for you."

She hurried away, and began to chat with the other waitresses as to who she was serving.

"Honestly, you think we could get some privacy somewhere," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.

Harry shrugged nonchalantly, looking at the menu once more.

Ginny cleared her throat, and said, "Look, Harry, I know this must be uncomfortable for you-you haven't done this in a while, but please, try, at least."

"I haven't done this in a while? And you have? Gone out, I mean."

Ginny paled considerably, her many freckles standing out on her pallor. "I thought we were going to move past that," she said quietly, staring down at her menu as well. Her hands were clenched, so that her knuckles stood out considerably, looking even whiter than her skin already was.

"Right, sorry, just you know…er, sorry." Harry said hurriedly. Out of the blue, he said, "I think I'll have the filet mignon. Have you decided yet?"

Ginny hurriedly scanned the menu, and said, "Yeah, I think I'll have the halibut."

"Right, ok. Um, well, what do you want to talk about?"

What do you want to talk about? You complete idiot, Harry, you ruined this before it even started. You fucking moron. Actually, no, you ruined it when you brought up fucking Dean again. You should've known not to bring him up, why the hell did you have to do that?

Harry continued to chastise himself in his mind, until Ginny's voice allowed for him to resurface.

"Harry!"

"Er, yeah, sorry, dazed off for a bit again there."

"I noticed."

Those two words alone made it feel like someone had just stabbed him in the heart, and twisted the blade ruthlessly.

"So, you two decided what you want to order yet?"

Harry cursed at the waitress under his breath. If she hadn't noticed that he was Harry bloody freaking Potter, he knew that there was no way she would've returned to their table that quickly. He looked around the room, to see the upset faces of the people at other tables that she had clearly neglected for quite some time.

"Yes, I'll have the halibut." Ginny said, handing the waitress her menu, forcing a smile. She had to force a smile. Like she wasn't having a good time. It was hardly as if Harry could blame her, he was doing a ruddy awful job at making small talk.

"I'll have the filet mignon," he said, handing his menu to the waitress.

He turned back to Ginny, saying, "Sorry, what were you saying earlier?"

"I was asking how work was."

"Right, work. You know, same old, same old."

He paused, glancing at her, during an awkward silence. She had clearly hoped for him to say more.

"Look, maybe this was a bad idea, I haven't done this in forever," he confessed.

Fucking Draco Malfoy. Why the hell did he have to listen to him? Actually, no, on second thought, this wasn't his fault at all. He had simply given him his heartfelt advice. It wasn't Malfoy's fault if his attempts at making small talk were atrocious.

"No, this was a good idea, just you haven't done this in forever. It's just a bit awkward."

Harry bit back his previous comment, and said, "So, how was today? At home, I mean."

Ginny stiffened imperceptibly, and said, "It was fine. Basically the same as normal."

"Er, right."

Another awkward silence.

Merlin, this had been a bad idea.

Luckily, the waitress hurried back in spectacularly quickly.

"A halibut for the lady," she said, setting down the plate, "and a filet mignon for the gentleman. Is there anything else I can get you two?"

"No, we're good, thanks."

"No problem, have a fantastic evening."

Harry cut his steak slowly, and heard a loud smacking from across the table. Ginny was eating messily, as usual, but instead of finding it endearing, as he once had, he felt an emotion akin to disgust in his stomach. This was an awful idea. How could he think that this would work? He and Ginny…they were gone now. It wasn't Ginny that had changed, it was him. Feeling nauseated, he got up, throwing down his silverware, and managed to choke out, "I'm sorry. I can't do this." He then fled out the door, and as soon as the door shut, he apparated home.

When Hermione arrived home, she could sense that something was wrong. Just this morning, the curtains were drawn open, letting sunlight filter through into the small flat. Now, the shades were drawn closed once more, and an all too familiar smell drifted lazily about the air, stinging her sinuses.

No, please don't let it be true.

Hermione rounded the corner, a sinking feeling in her gut, and tears filled her eyes when she saw Ron.

He was lying on the couch, surrounded by bottles of firewhisky strewn about.

Choking back tears, Hermione simply went to her room, as to not wake him.

I'm giving up. No, I can't give up on him. Go back Hermione, a small voice in her head said.

Put the self pity won out in the end, and Hermione curled into a ball on the bed. She had tried so hard. She thought she had him. And just when she had started to feel good-feel good about THEM again, it had to go splintering into tiny little pieces, back into a irreparable mess.

Ron couldn't change. He wouldn't change. He couldn't be the same man she had loved.

With this new certainty, Hermione felt the small flame of hope within her die out. It was time to take action.

She quickly got up, and, making sure she didn't wake Ron, she firecalled Molly Weasley.


End file.
